At the Break

First Attempt

2010-10-18T02:16:00.000-07:00

They were as delicious as they look.

The key is to pour the cream very. sloowwwwly. so that it rises back to the top.

Thank you, Kaitlin. How do you know so much?

The Long-Coveted Recipe for Espresso Shooters

2010-10-08T20:26:00.000-07:00

Due to a certain amount of harassment over the release of this recipe I've decided to disclose it to my public. However, in the spirit of full disclosure I feel it important to mention that I came upon the knowledge of these secret ingredients through somewhat unethical means...eavesdropping. That's right. But truly, I don't feel bad for stooping so low. It's one of those ends justifying means situations. You'd have done the same after one delectable sip...

First, prep your glasses (no bigger than 1 1/2 oz.) by rolling the

rim on a moistened sponge and then dipping it in raw sugar.

Add to each glass equal parts:

Kahlua Syrup, you can use the real thing if you want to stiffen it up a bit.

Espresso, made ahead and cooled.

Heavy Cream, drizzeled over the top as pictured above.

It really is that simple to taste heaven. I plan on serving them at every event I ever host. Ever.

Enjoy, Jen!

A Blue Kind of Fall

2010-10-07T15:14:00.001-07:00

So…I’ve been trying to write this blog in my head for about two weeks, but every time I start typing the fifth finger of my right hand reaches up and starts ~~tapping~~, ~~hammering~~, woodpeckering on the backspace key. If this post lacks a degree of cleverness, its because I have determined to get the facts out of my swirling mind on onto my blog today, no matter what.
Usually Autumn is a time to huddle down, get cozy, organize, bundle up and prepare for a long winter… I guess all that is true of this Autumn as well, but we have the added “expectation” and “anticipation” to our list of Fall feelings. A little over two weeks ago we got “the call” from Adoption Ministry telling us that we had been chosen! Although I thought we would someday receive such a call, I heard the words and found myself in complete shock. Tears and unbelief clouded my understanding as our adoption councilor filed through the facts of our situation… When I hung up I realized I hadn’t even found out when the baby was due!
Since that day, we have met with both the birthfather and the birthmother as well as her mom and dad. All of our meetings have been really, really good (thanks to lots of prayer!)and have solidified the ground of this adoption. I found out that we are ‘expecting’ a boy, and his due date is November 24th…three days after my mother’s birthday and one day before Thanksgiving. I’m pulling for him to make his appearance on either of those days! But of course, God knows the perfect time.
Sarah has taken up the charge of praying for her ‘baby brother’ and asks regularly, “Where is him?” We have taken the opportunity to really introduce the concept of adoption to her little two year old brain…its amazing how much she understands! When we met with our son-to-be’s birthmother, Sarah prepared a blue play-dough cake stuffed with crayon candles and presented to her saying, “Happy Birthday to him. He’s hiding in there. Come out, baby brother!” When we left she said, “Bye-bye, Baby, see ya soon!” Meanwhile, she practices swaddling, diapering, feeding, and sleepy time with every baby doll and stuffed animal she has. It is SO sweet! I think she’ll be a good helper and a good big sister.
Naturally, the thing that I think about the most is how good God is to us in spite of what we deserve. He is certainly not giving us a son because we are such perfect parents to the daughter he has already given us, but because he is just indescribably good. It is humbling and thrilling. The fact that he has created a way to adopt us into his family even while we were the most undesirable is the greatest demonstration of his goodness extended to us. Thank you, Lord!
I often say that every adoption is a miracle…there are always a million and one things that are unknowns, a trillion and one things that could change. The fact that his birthparents have chosen life for him is the first miracle, the second will be the finalization of the adoption. Please pray with us and for us through this process. Pray that the birthparents hold fast to the decision that they have made, pray that the council they receive is good, pray that we would be able to establish relationships that instill confidence and affection with his birth family, pray that he would grow healthy and strong, pray….use your imagination! My dear friends daughter prayed that “we would be loved.” Truly sweet.
Meanwhile, we have six weeks to prepare for the new blue hue our home will be taking on… What a beautiful Autumn it is turning out to be! Makes turning 30 seem just fine.

Goodness and Mercy

2010-09-23T09:51:00.001-07:00

Today I am thankful.

My life is bathed in the goodness of God.

Taste and see that the Lord is good!

Blessed is He.

More of the Same

2010-08-28T08:47:00.001-07:00

I can’t resist posting a few more of my pictures from the wedding…I know, you’re longing to see more predictable pictures of a couple you’ve never met, but I did issue fair warning that this would probably happen. I promise to tantalize your taste bud’s desires at the end of this post to reward your endurance!
The creativity represented in the decor of this wedding was exquisitely simple.

Charming, right? I know. I loved it. Rustically classy, shabby and elegant.
Game time!
I’m pretty sure he’s the winner…

These make me happy… probably because they look so happy. Post wedding everyone is SO much more relaxed!!!

Okay, and here’s the long awaited pictures of heaven in an ounce, aka, espresso shooters. Honestly, I pilfered three, but think I could have downed six without a pause. SO YuMMy!
If you’re very, very lucky I might let you in on the recipe that I managed to overhear rather sneakily…..
So there you have it. I like taking pictures. The end.

Photasmic Bliss

2010-08-24T20:49:00.001-07:00

One thing I learned last weekend: I don’t ever want to be solely responsible for capturing for all eternity the joy and anticipation of some happy couple’s wedding day. In the role of ‘assistant’ photographer, however, I feel right at home. Basically, thanks to the honor my dear friend gave me by asking for my assistance, I got to do what I love - run around snapping my shutter at people in hopes of achieving something stunningly creative – with none of the responsibility. It was ideal! Here’s a sampling of the legion of pictures I took. (Have I mentioned lately that I love my Nikon D90? Yes, well, I thought it was worth mentioning again!)

The Groom and his men…and their cool blue Vans.

That’s enough of the boys…now here’s the gorgeous bride ~

Stunning, really.

What I’ve decided is, I really like taking portraits, would love a chance to practice more, and have a long and steep learning curve ahead of me… because intuition and creativity is NOT enough.

I have SO many more pictures from last weekend that I want to post, so if you choose to come visit my blog you know what you’re getting into!

Summer

2010-08-19T07:56:00.000-07:00

I love Autumn. No season other season makes me so happy, so retrospective, so comfortable. No other season's wardrobe gives me such delight. Autumn is uniquely loved by me for all its spices and smells and textures and colors. Typically, I am the first to try to rush the season, giving my poor Summer-loving husband reason to doubt that we really are compatable. Poor, poor man.

For the first time in my life of Autumn-adoration, I had to scold someone for ushering in the new season too early. I felt an instant affinity for Jon. We were sitting at a baseball game on a gloriously warm Summer night earlier this week when the offending comment was made and I felt an unfamiliar sense of protection for Summer's ebbing days flow over me. Viva la Summer! Bring on the heat! We've waited long enough for it and now that its here I want a chance to enjoy it before I sip my first Pumpkin Spice Latte and resign myself to sweaters and puddles.

Here's the rub: After defending Summer's right to continue as planned, spouting on about how I'm just not ready to give up water fights and blackberries and iced americanos, the thought of Fall was planted. If I'm perfectly honest, the niggling has started. Pretty soon it will become an undeniable longing for the cozy warmth of Autumn. I'm fighting, but its a loosing battle.

In deference to the man who works in the rain for me all in all sorts of dismal WA weather, I will restrain myself from lauding the coming of the best season of the year until the first week of September. It only seems kind.

I love Summer.
I love Autumn more.

Windows to the Soul

2010-06-06T11:36:00.000-07:00

'Nuf said.

Longing and Joy

2010-06-03T08:53:00.001-07:00

Meet me here, friends, over this cup of lukewarm coffee and this lukewarm heart but be prepared. This is not a morning of ease and laughter.

Some things never change, or at least feel like they never change in this murky muddy heart. I am facing the sorrow of looking in my heart and seeing the sin that made my Savior’s shed blood necessary… not only seeing it but acknowledging that I indulge it and guard it, hide it and help it to remain. Sanctification. The Holy Spirit’s work. Do I fight the work He wants to do? Why does this Sanctification Road seem so slow and steep? It is the constant heartache of my life – the slowness of my change. I hear the summons but I don’t respond. Romans 7:24 ~ “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?”

“For sin that made my Savior bleed, I hang my head in shame;

Yet for the cleansing that I need, that precious blood I claim.”

Already but not yet. Longing and Joy. This is what I cling to ~ “For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified.” Hebrews 10:14 ALREADY perfected through the single offering he made on the cross.

Sometimes the progress seems horrifically slow, but I’m sure that the change in my life is occurring by his grace. Some days I feel the setbacks so harshly, but looking over my life I can see the technical weaving of his grace through my life like a complicated fugue…separate melodies in different ranges weaving, dodging, crossing, building. In music, dissonance glorifies resolution. True, I think, in this process of sanctification, too.

John Piper on the subject:

Being sanctified means that we are imperfect and in process. We are becoming holy – but are not yet fully holy. And it is precisely these – and only these – who are already perfected. The joyful encouragement here is that the evidence of our perfection before God is not our experienced perfection, but our experienced progress. The good news is that being on the way is proof that we have arrived.

The suffering of Christ secures our perfection so firmly that it is already now a reality.

So the battle is to become what I already am. My firm foundation is Christ, the death of Jesus is the key. “He has now reconciled [you] in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him.” Colossians 1:22.

Now to face this day with my heart wrapped in this truth: praying for my change, glorifying in perfection already bought and paid for. Time for a fresh cup and a bit of Bach.

Excursions in Bellvue, Season 6, Episode 3.

2010-05-23T20:06:00.001-07:00

A day that begins with spilt coffee should perhaps not begin at all. Or if that is not an option, at least started over with more sleep and a fresh attempt at welcoming the new day. Unfortunately, May 20th did begin with spilt coffee without the option of starting the day over since I was meeting a certain Almond-Eyed-Friend (hereafter referred to as AEF) at our destination of choice, Bellvue Square. I try not to be superstitious, but while I don’t often cry over spilt milk, spilt coffee is an ominously different story, and I think had direct influence over the fact my little W woke up two hours early that morning and the fact that we were 30 minutes late to our meeting place...Starbucks in Bellvue Square, of course..

Meet My Godson and The Princess as they drink their steamed milk and share animal crackers at their own private table. Too bad all their encounters aren’t so civilized.

Meet The Moppet. See the longing in her eyes? No steamed milk or animal crackers for her.

You’re right. Those are clearly not Starbucks cups. Upon arriving together, fortuitously, at the same elevator at the same time, AEF, My Godson, The Princess,The Moppet and I took the most direct route to the first coffee shop to be found. Tully’s is no Starbucks, but when one is really in need it’ll do.

Me and AEF are the ultimate multitaskers: drinking coffee, brisk walking that could be categorized as exercise, sharing juicy stories, spending money, drooling over the things we cannot afford, reigning in three children, planning for future coffee breaks, all the while not running over fellow shoppers with our in line strollering. (Yes, that’s a word. Honestly.)

Actually, our children were surprisingly well behaved, speaking generously. The most notable moment occurred when The Princess would not share her baby with My Godson(her baby wasn’t hungry!), at which point this wonderful boy started making very boyish sounds, the like of which The Princess had never heard. One thing led to the next, and soon the poor hapless baby had been shot through the heart, much to The Princess horror! My favorite line of the day came from AEF,”Gabriel! You may NOT shoot Sarah’s baby! Go tell Sarah you are sorry for shooting her baby!” Appropriate apologies ensued and The Boy returned to Adventures of the Motorcycle Man. Proper pursuits for a young gentleman.

Bellvue was really quite typical. What can I say? Its all about the marketing… Don’t you just want, need, have to have?

At the appointed time of 2:30 we headed for our cars… Leaving for home should be the easy part. After loading up all the equipment, gently declining to support a panhandler with a clever story, and hopping in my car with a sigh of exhaustion, I noticed the sticky note on my windshield that read, “Your right rear tire is FLAT!” As a pancake, it might have added. Bless the kind soul who bothered to leave the note (Jon speculates that it was obviously a man’s handwriting…I wonder what kind of man carries sticky notes around in his back pocket?). Its so nice to have a friend in the same parking garage in such moments. I highly recommend it. Mind you, I’ve had more than my share of opportunities to change a tire. However, to this date, I have yet to finish the process all by myself. I guess I wear a “Helpless Female” sticker that men can’t help but respond to. In this instance, my dear AEF started the process, laying down on a fluffy pink baby blanket, and cranking up the car. I just love her. Before long a troop of punk cigarette smoking dudes offered their services, but not before wondering at the nearby car of apparently abandoned and screaming children. I tried not to be embarrassed when the lug nuts that we could not budge with all our weight effortlessly screwed off at the touch of one of the gentlemen. However, the situation got more comical when, all lug nuts removed, the wheel would not un-wedge from the axle. Enter security guard. Was he wondering what all the banging and hammering was? Four men, two females, and three screaming children managed to get the spare on my car. Leaving out the story of poorly (very poorly) rendered directions to Les Schwab and the ensuing trek around a very big town, I did eventually drive home with a repaired tire in place. I think we walked in the door at quarter to seven. I will not horrify you with the details of how Sarah dealt with the aftermath of no nap and way too much stimulation in a day. Actually, I’ve been trying to put it from my mind and hope to never repeat it.

And to think, it all started with spilt coffee. There you go.

Stay tuned for more exciting episodes of Excursions in Bellvue.

What You See

2010-05-17T15:03:00.001-07:00

This is what you get when you hold a real camera in your hands.

It is beyond fun to actually catch the moment you were hoping for instead of planning ahead and crossing your fingers. I think I’m in love with my Nikon D90.
Why did I wait so long to invest in a really good camera?

I alternately ask my self that question and kick my self, especially when I think of all the little baby pictures I missed while fiddling around with inferior equipment. Here’s some more…

View Full Album

I know that not all share my enthusiasm for a gorgeous photo, full of popping color, stunning smiles, depth and contrast, clarity, artistry. I know because I live with one such person. (Actually, two. But one will hopefully learn…)
But can you blame me? This moment will never come again. The sleepy smile, the crooked binkie, my handsome man with tender hands, wearing my favorite shirt. I will happily continue annoying people, especially my dearest people, to catch such moments.

(‘K, just a couple more. Promise.)

Gorgeous Girl
Thanks for indulging me.

2010-05-12T12:18:00.000-07:00

It is 10:45, and I'm sitting cross-legged on my unmade bed, none too worried about the state of my hair (greasy and up) or my attire (wrinkly pjs) or my home (hmmmm. probably should be!). Nearby, my smaller counterpart, who is equally unconcerned with her bed head or pjs (hers are cuter, pinker), is bathing her babies with equal parts spit and baby wipes with all the diligence of a two year old, occasionally punctuating the ritual with "no fussin, beebee," and "poo poo inyer diaper," of course followed by the necessary change. Perhaps by 11:00 we will take a break from our inactivity and have breakfast. There is always the hope for change.

Having not blogged for a while, let me give you a wee peek into the affairs of the Watsons three. After nearly two months of out of town family masquerading as company, I am attempting to reinstate some sort of routine into my daily life that will manage cooking, house cleaning, shopping, and child-training. I have no fathomable idea of how to do this successfully, but dreamer that I am, I can try. We are celebrating the release of our family beast from his bondage to the cone, or bib as the littlest W calls it. He has officially been declared well, and will doubtless take the first opportunity to release 6 weeks of pent-up male cat aggression on our unsuspecting neighborhood with no regard for the "way too much money!" we spent on him. While I have no absolute proof, I'm pretty sure that the scwalling I heard in the ally behind our house at precisely 1:33 last night testified to the breakage of a certain no-fighting rule we bound him to upon reinstating his freedom. One last note regarding our feline's appearance: were I a neighboring cat out for a prowl, I'd take one look at this shaggy, scarred and fiendish-eyed Tom and tuck tail for an easier fight elsewhere. I'm pretty certain Rochester is reveling in this switch from pretty boy to "the cat from the other side of the tracks".

Also newsworthy is the exorbitant purchase of the long coveted Nikon D90 DSLR camera. For years it has been winking seductively at me. Now it is MINE. Having not yet delved into the 278 page manual, I have managed to attach the camera strap and lens (for those interested parties: AF-S Nikkor 18-105mm 1:3.5-5.6G ED...yea, I know what a little of all that means), adjusted the Main Command Dial to auto, and have taken some absolutely spectacular picture. Forgive the momentary bragging. Its just nice to know that a photographer really is only as good as their camera...and this camera has given me lots of room to grow! It has been suggested to me that I take a class. A rather good suggestion actually! In the future prepare yourself for many pictures posted of a certain two year old, lots of inanimate objects, and well, coffee cups and like paraphernalia. I will probably also post on my rather steep learning curve taking place with PSE, where I've discovered that it is possible to make a bad shot good and simultaneously spend 2 hours in 15 minutes. You know what I mean.

Happily, I can announce that my handy, hardworking husband looks to be in hot demand throughout the Spring and Summer months. It is good to learn to trust the Lord to provide through the slim months and very nice to rest in the Lord's goodness with a little extra padding through the thicker months. Praise God from whom all blessings flow, who satisfies us with good things, who delights to give good gifts, who will supply all our needs according to his riches in glory.

The last few months have also carried a certain strain as we seek to give the shape of our family over to the Lord day after day. Having watched what looked like a sure and a good thing pass us by, we are excited to continue to pursue adopting our next baby...whomever that may be. The not-so-side effect of letting go of a possible adoption is the increased amazement wrapped up in our first adoption. Nothing will ever compare to the gift and miracle that our feisty-sweet two year old is. At unexpected times I am so overcome with thankfulness and awe that I just cry, like on Mother's Day when my daughter says (under Daddy's tutelage) "Happy Day, Momma!", or when we cuddle at bedtime and she sings Jesus Loves Me along with me in her little off-key voice. I am so blessed.

Lastly, am up to my imagination's eye-balls in PINK as I plan a birthday party for the pinkest princess in town. Its not that I'm carried away...well, its just that I'm carried away! How do you take a red-dominated house and throw a pink party? I don't know, but I'm sure to post some (phenomenal) pictures upon my success. After all, you only get to turn two once... and you only love pink for so long... Let the party BEGIN!

Now it is 12:08 PM. I've managed to blog, clean my floor, feed my princess, while simultaneously talking on the phone. The sun shine is luring me outside where a plethora of pink flowers are waiting to be planted. A shower and real clothes will just have to wait till a more opportune time, I'm afraid. Ta ta, my dear readers, now that you are up to date!

Lessons in Humility

2010-04-30T14:06:00.000-07:00

The Plan: A morning driving around our happy little town in search of a show stopping garage sale or two, the possibility of a treasure for a quarter enticing, the feel of Spring tickling us on.

The Reality: The infamous gray drizzle put a definate damper on the saling spirit (yes, I made that word up), and sales that had been advertised failed to make their appearance, which resulted in a lot of driving and not much treasure hunting.

The Players: Four Salers (M.I.L, neice, daughter, me), a handful of extras milling about, and two rescuers looking not much like Superman as they were not wearing blue tights, but quite chic nonetheless. Apparently, the new vogue for superheros includes the sporty cloche *.

The Problem: How long had my low fuel light been on? Who's to know. Too long. I knew I was on empty, but between keeping up with a steady stream of conversation and pealing my eyes for the elusive moving sale (they can be so hard to catch), I had managed to ignore it for most the morning, although I believe I did mention the need once in passing. After stopping at one uninspiring sale of cast off boy toys, however, the need suddenly morphed into a real problem when my car just quietly....ceased to run, leaving me parked directly in front of a sale where not one item demanded my consideration. I appologised for my car blocking the driveway entrance to the whoever would listen and climbed back into my car to ponder my options. The steady trickle of conversation, punctuated with the occasional "NO!" from the youngest player, continued in the background of my thoughts.

The Solution: Several options presented themselves, all of them including me making a pretty long distance trek across town in ballet flats...in the afor mentioned drizzle...with a heavy gas can... Lovely. At that point I decided that humbling myself and throwing myself on the mercy of my best friend's mother and sister was a much better option. They happened to be home, willing and equiped. Enter stylishly cloched rescue ladies bearing a large orange gas can!

The Lesson: Listen to your husband. Its so basic. And SO humiliating. It couldn't have even been a month ago that we had a conversation about how I drive much too long on empty, that it doesn't take that much effort to stop and fill up when the tank is 1/4 full instead of waiting until the needle is below empty, that it doesn't really save any money ( I know its only in my head...). Why did he have to be so right so soon? The only thing to do is to humble myself, grovel a bit, and ask forgiveness for not heeding my protector's advice. The only other time I can remember dreading that man's return home from work was about a month ago when I had to confess to getting a speeding ticket.

There have been an awful lot of lessons in humility lately.
The Blessing: If this had to happen and the lesson must be learned, far better that it be in my home town with my dear friends nearby to come donate their gas to my cause and follow me to the closest gas station to be sure I made it. Actually, I've quite alot to be thankful for, the least of which was the adorable appearance of my new favorite hat: the super-cloche.

(*The cloche hat is a fitted, bell-shaped hat that was popular during the 1920s. Cloche hats were usually made of felt so that they conformed to the head. The hat was typically designed to be worn low on the forehead, with the wearer's eyes only slightly below the brim. Often, different styles of ribbons affixed to the hats indicated different messages about the wearer. Several popular messages included: An arrow-like ribbon which indicated a girl was single but had already given her heart to someone, a firm knot which signaled marriage or a flamboyant bow which indicated the wearer was single and interested in mingling.)

P.S. A long overdue post script must be added here. I simply cannot let proper grammer and spelling interupt my creative train of thought and proof-reading is my mother's job. Seeing as she is not often available at the time of post, you must be subjected to all my faux-pas if you choose to read this blog. I just didn't want you to think I didn't know they were there. Its simply a matter of not caring. Oh dear, I sense another lesson in humility coming on...

Like-Minded Friends

2010-04-28T16:15:00.000-07:00

While dining at friend's house the other day, the comment was made while passing around Haagen Dazs ice cream bars, "A meal cannot really be considered good unless it ends with chocolate." How sweet to dine with like-minded friends!

5 Months

2010-03-30T15:01:00.000-07:00

I think I'm in for a long 5 months.

Our meeting went really, really well. Thank you SO MUCH for all your prayers. I'll recap in person to anyone interested in the long version, but in short, it looks as though we are "expecting" a boy in August! A side note: I know people were praying because, against all odds, Sarah was delightfully good for 9/10ths of our time at the restaurant. She only hit Geri once and only rarely said "no", and overall gave a pretty good impression of an adorable, albeit precocious two year old!

I've already run the gambit of emotion ~ torrential multifcited tears, giddy and goofy, quietly introspective, awe at God's faithful hand, and fear that pops up without warning and seizes my heart only to be battled down with promises of God's soverienty. Today, I'm waging a rough battle on the last. Fear has been lurking at my door and knocking on my heart.

When God gave us Sarah Grace He gave us a two and a half week notice. We found out we were having a girl in the middle/end of April and brought our miracle home from the hospital on May 9th at two days old. It seems fast, but blissfully so.

I am embracing the hope of this little one with all my heart, realizing that alot can happen in 5 months. It will only be by God's grace that I can make it that long, and if this adoption falls through, it will only be by God's grace that I make it through the devestation. It is my prayer that either way I honor the Lord and show forth his mercy and faithfulness to me.

Please continue to hold us up in prayer.

Hold On Tight

2010-03-25T15:41:00.000-07:00

Friends, I need you to pray for me. For us.

The Adoption Road is a winding, wild ride, and you always drive it blindfolded. Sometimes your feel stable and rest your feet on the dash, sometimes you get carsick, sometimes you know something is around the next corner but can't see what it is, and sometimes you get that rollercoaster feeling of the road dropping out from under you. I'm always thankful I know and trust the Driver.

Some of you know that we may have a placement in the near future. Through a series of circumstances that have God's handprints all over it, we've been in communication for the last month with a preganant girl named Geri who is looking for an adoptive family. This Saturday morning we are going to meet her for the first time. These first meetings are full of so many emotions that its hard to know where to begin. The bottem line is, whether she chooses us or decides to look for someone else, we pray that she will continue down the courageous road of choosing life for her baby.

To say our hopes aren't up would be a lie. We pray that this is the baby that God has for us. We hope that she meets us, loves us, and feels like we are the perfect dad, mom, and big sister for her baby. But we can honestly say that we want God's best, and that may mean more waiting and the temporary heart-ache of giving up a dream.

Every adoption is a beautiful display of God's miraculous grace. When you consider all the people invloved, all the legal issues, all the variables, all the emotions, it is phenominally amazing that any adoptions ever come to fruition. God loves adoption. He brings them to pass. He builds families in the way He chooses and in His time. We have tasted His goodness through the pain of a failed adoption and through the unending joy of a successful adoption, and we know He will be good and gracious to us through whatever lies before us now. We'll just keep holding on tight!

Here's some specific prayer requests...

Pray that Geri would be comfortable with us, that our hearts would be at peace, and that Sarah would be a good girl (We are meeting at a restaurant and she has such a hard time sitting still!), and pray that we would be able to communicate our hearts in an open and loving way.

Thank you for holding us before the Lord, Friends.

I'll let you know how it goes!

Waiting's My Game

2010-03-10T17:23:00.000-08:00

To wait on God is to live a life of desire toward Him, delight in Him, dependence on Him,

and devotedness to Him.

Matthew Henry

I'm someone who has had lots of practice waiting. How nice it would be to be able to say I've perfected the art after all this time. Alas. Over the last two years its been a neglected art (one among many!), and now that I'm in the position of actively waiting on the Lord again I find that I'm a little out of practice. Presently, the waiting doesn't have nearly as much to do with impatience in the time frame as it does with my heart's ability to rest in the Lord's will. It feels a bit like sitting down at my marginally in tune piano to play all three movements of a previously perfected, long neglected Beethoven Sonata... I know because I tried that last night! I did make it through, but my fingers felt like clay and my eyes were tracking ahead of my brain and in the end I'd say it closely resembled a trainwreck. My husband and baby clapped and thanked me for the concert anyway. I like them.

The thing that I despise about waiting is how you think you're doing a good job and then it hits you! Anxiety and discontent and distrust in the Lord has crept in under the door and clouded your heart and vision in a fog. Its a constant struggle and fight. Frankly, resting is exhausting.

The thought occurs to me, though, that I do other exhausting things and don't complain about them. For instance, every Thursday night I join my husband on the Volleyball court for two hours of high energy, body pummeling, knee-pounding, hand stinging pleasure and afterwords I am sweaty, exhausted and happy.

Volleyball is my physical game, and waiting is my spiritual game. I will apply myself with equal vigor and energy and I will hopefully improve both games with practice.
Pray for me, my friends.

"Lead me in your truth and teach me,for you are the God of my salvation;

for you I wait all the day long"

Psalm 25:5

But for you, O LORD, do I wait; it is you, O Lord my God, who will answer.

Psalm 38:15

Waiting has four purposes. It practices the patience of faith.

It gives time for preparation for the coming gift.

It makes the blessing the sweeter when it arrives.

And it shows the sovereignty of God – to give just when and just as He pleases.

James Vaghan

Cultish Tendancies

2010-03-03T14:24:00.000-08:00

I'm dabbling in a cult.

The world is not as it seemed. Who knew the forces that were spinning around me were slowly drawing me in and sinking in their feindish claws. It began with mild curiosity which grew into a curiousity to understand, and then almost without my permission, I was IN. I've never considered myself weak and vulnerable, but my resistance must be down. A package arrived on my door this morning and it spoke loud and clear of my intent to become a member of this cult. The package was full of ....

FLUFF!

That's right. Cloth Diapers.

The last week, as I've been recooperating from my Appy (trendy word courtesy of Walters, Inc), I've had much time on my hands to search the web. At the outset, my search just generated questions and more questions without even a hint at answers. This is not the word of cloth diapering that our mothers and grandmothers lived in. It is a world full of terms and acronims and philosophies that they never dreamed of. How to sort out AIO's, fitteds, prefolds , AI2's, covers, pockets, liners, doubles, wicking, prepping, laundering, sun-bleaching, hybrids, and the million and two name-brands represented under every type of diaper.

Let me tell you how this might go should you have similar time on your hands and inclination to search out answers. You want answers so you start searching blogs, only to realize that around the country and the world there are hoards of baby-wearing, co-sleeping, planet-hugging, cloth-diapering, green mamma bloggers who may or may not share the SAME opinion on all the above listed, but who will without doubt SHARE their opinion. Is this helpful? After the first 73 blogs you may find yourself more confused on some topics, but a faint outline of how cloth diapering works will probably begin to form in your brain. The next twenty-some-odd blogs will send you into a bleary-eyed state that leaves unsuitable for human interaction. I would suggest stopping after 73. What you will most likely discover, should you reach this point, is that you will not be satisfied until you hold various diaper choices in your hands. Beware. This is the sneaky point of commitment. Money is exchanged, you begin watching for the arrival of your fluff, and then...

Packages on your doorstep full of the cutest, softest, happiest little diapers. You will be hooked at this point. At least, that's how it worked for me. Its really deceptive, actually, because those darling little nappies will be filled with poo (post prep washing) and then you will be faced with what to do with this high-maintenace scrap of adorable fabric and snaps. Upon the arrival of your CD's, you will begin to think about what you like and dislike about your newly aquired poo catchers, and you will more than likely begin to make lists about what you need to complete your set up... diaper pail, special soap, more inserts, more covers, etc. You're hooked. You're in. Life has changed and you will soon find yourself blogging about something as mundane as diapers, only you won't think it mundane...yet.

You are reading this and wagging your head. OR you are reading this and rejoicing that one has joined the fold (ha.)! Either way, its plain to see that this red-headed, non-baby wearing, only occationally granola-crunching, partially green momma is a new member of the Fluff Cult.

Post Script: Strangely enough, my husband-extrordinair fully supported my membership, especially after we went over the figures, calculating how much we've spent to date on organic, unbleached disposables. The initial investment in CDs only temporarily knocked him back. The thought of throwing 30 cents in the garbage 5 - 10 times a day brought him right around and he even commented that if properly taught he could handle the occational CD change himself. What a man! I just love him.)

I'm a Creator! (So True)

2010-03-01T16:10:00.000-08:00

This is uncanny in how acurate it is! Take this color quiz to find out your best occupational category. Its fun and quirky and I like that kind of thing!
These are my results:

Best Occupational Category

You're a CREATOR

Keywords
Nonconforming, Impulsive, Expressive, Romantic, Intuitive, Sensitive, and Emotional

These original types place a high value on aesthetic qualities and have a great need for self-expression. They enjoy working independently, being creative, using their imagination, and constantly learning something new. Fields of interest are art, drama, music, and writing or places where they can express, assemble, or implement creative ideas.

CREATOR OCCUPATIONS
Suggested careers are Advertising Executive, Architect, Web Designer, Creative Director, Public Relations, Fine or Commercial Artist, Interior Decorator, Lawyer, Librarian, Musician, Reporter, Art Teacher, Broadcaster, Technical Writer, English Teacher, Architect, Photographer, Medical Illustrator, Corporate Trainer, Author, Editor, Landscape Architect, Exhibit Builder, and Package Designer.

CREATOR WORKPLACES

Consider workplaces where you can create and improve beauty and aesthetic qualities. Unstructured, flexible organizations that allow self-expression work best with your free-spirited nature.

Suggested Creator workplaces are advertising, public relations, and interior decorating firms; artistic studios, theaters and concert halls; institutions that teach crafts, universities, music, and dance schools. Other workplaces to consider are art institutes, museums, libraries, and galleries.

Monday Morning...

2010-03-01T12:10:00.000-08:00

Pry open weary eyes.
Slide lethargically, distastefully, regretfully out of warm coccoon into cold world.
Search with foggy eyes for "brew now" button.
Punch said button.
Melt head and arms onto counter to await the liquid of life and daydreams.
Hot cup in hand, smile beginning to dawn, crawl back into warm nest.

Open written Life.
"Thy lovingkindness is better than life!"
Monday is worth living.
God is good today.
This is the day to rejoice in the Lord.
Prayer.

Make list of proposed accomplishments for the day.
More prayer.
Who's that I hear calling?
My princess doesn't know its Monday judging from her happy tones.
Welcome Monday!

House Plans

2010-02-25T15:44:00.000-08:00

Why is it that typing the first few words is SO hard for me? Once I get started I can barely quit, but making myself buckle in and start the engine about kills me every time! It doesn't help that I've been lapsing off for so long in between blogs. You'd think with as much time as I've spent in bed over the last week and a half I could have turned out some massive blog-age...But who wants to hear the thoughts of a girl who's bed-bound? (As a side note, I would not council anyone to have an appendectomy as a means of discovering how much friends and family care, but it is a wonderful side effect of such proceedures. I'm very thankful for all the encouragement, meals, child care, flowers, prayers, and visits. I'm a very blessed girl!)

Now that I'm up and at 'em again, and beginning to feel some twinges of energy here and there (usually following a cup of stiff coffee), its time to refocus on my family and house hold needs instead of on myself. (Hard to make the switch, ya know?) My poor little princess is beginning to tire of taking care of mommy...and I dare say, my poor hubby is probably right behind her, although I've yet to see him through himself on the floor and scream (ThAnKfuLLy!). The first part of my grand plan involves renewing my membership to the 6:30 club. Tend to spiritual things first, my dear. The second part centers on general up-keep of my home: laundry, dishes, meals, etc. so that my darling can come home to a home instead of a second job. (He's really an amazing man. I adore him!) Part three is the hardest for me as it focuses on the training and discipline of my princess/tyrant/

sweetiepie/sinner, which has been sadly neglected and its beginning to show.

The gist of it all: Child training starts in the heart of the trainer so I must tend to my own attitudes and pray for grace. "Walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love..." Eph. 4:1-3 "Therefore, be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God." Eph. 5:1-2 I'd like to say patience and long-suffering and humility came easily to me, but I'd rather not add lying my list of sins (this time). Being a mommy is like a magnifier of my heart. Things gone unchecked become unearthed in singularly ugly ways. Fortunately, God's grace is so much greater than my propensity for sin, so I rely on that to keep me on the following track...

1.) Cheerful Mommy

2.) Loving tones

3.) Calm face

4.) Pleasant eyes

5.) No warnings

6.) Calm, loving discipline

7.) Follow routine

8.) Take time to play

And here's what I gleaned on my recent jaunt through the book of proverbs that I thought applied rather well to my mommy-plan:

"A gentle tongue is a tree of life, but perverseness breaks the spirit." Proverbs 15:4

"A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger." Proverbs 15:1

"The wise heart is called discerning, and sweetness of speech increases persuasiveness." Proverbs 16:21

"The heart of the wise makes his speech judicious and adds pursuasiveness to his lips." Proverbs 16:23

"Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body." Proverbs 16:24

"A joyfull heart is good medicine but a crushed spirit dries up the bones." Proverbs 17:22

"Whoever restrains his words has knowledge and he who has a cool spirit is a man of understanding." Proverbs 17:27

"The wisest of women builds her house, but folly with her own hands tears it down." Proverbs 14:1

"Discipline your son, for there is hope." Proverbs 19:18

"Whoever spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is dilligent to discipline him." Proverbs 13:24

"Whoever pursues righteousness and kindness, will find life, righteousness and honor." Proverbs 21:21

So that, in a nut shell, is the plan! Now lets get to house cleaning...

Things that Make Me Happy

2010-02-12T15:05:00.000-08:00

She knows things, that Jane.

Home is such a happy place to me

and there are days that home is the only solution

to a thousand problems.

Give me a clean sink and an empty laundry hamper

and you have a happy lady.

Add coffee (notice the shrine above) and I am in heaven.

You know the bumper sticker

"Beer is proof that God loves me and wants me to be happy"?

Well, I'm pretty sure that coffee is part of

God's good and perfect plan for my life,

imparting energy and focus and general happiness

to this frail body of dust.

I wouldn't know about beer.

Thankfully.

I just thought I'd share what is making me happy today.

Home.

A house is not a home unless it contains food and fire for the mind as well as the body. Benjamin Franklin

He is happiest, be he king or peasant, who finds peace in his home. Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

The wisest of women builds her home,
but folly with her own hands tears it down.

Proverbs 14:1

Hodge Podge for Lunch

2010-02-10T15:07:00.000-08:00

Hello, friends.
I still love you.
My temporary abandonment of the world in which I live and blog is over. Here out I plan on calling you, writing you facebook comments, attending events with you, and occationally blogging. Until the next time I tune out... I just do that. sorry.

Fortunately, I have nothing to report on my permanant coronation except for 5 minute zinging pain (inthegoney) due to cold tooth cement. I was prepared for much worse. No Pollyanna attitude today. My final words on the subject (until next time): I am the proud owner of a $1500 crown that you will never see since it resides at the very back of my mouth; I did not have to have a root canal; and every time I eat steak I will fondly think of that happy little molar.

One exciting tidbit of news that I happily pass along is that all i's are dotted and t's crossed on our adoption application and as soon as I print off our family picture I will be sending it in to Adoption Ministry for review. Lest there be any confusion, this is only the first step of many and there is no specific baby on our horizens yet. Everything about adoption is fraught with forms to fill, questions to answer, and steps to take, even just to get the show on the road. I'm just patting myself on the back for getting this particular step behind me, knowing that there are 876,000 still to go. Well, maybe not that exact number. But close. Pray with us as we rest, wait, and work toward the next baby that God has planned for us from the beginning of the world. Exciting stuff, that.

Tying the last paragraph to the current, anyone who has children understands that photographs are what tie you to your memories. It is so funny how you think you will always remember, for instance, how small they started out, but then see a tiny baby and realize you have forgotten. But for pictures. Which is why I am currently obsessed with researching my next camera. Yes, I'm a photomaniac. I take 98 pictures when three would have been plenty. I drive my husband crazy with "Oh honey! Can you pull over please?!" just so I can add to my mountain picture collection. I have an external hardrive that is overflowing with pictures just since 2008. Its an obsession. Pictures are not merely for cataloging events, they are for capturing emotion. Art. And an artist needs good equipment. Which is why I've laid aside a camera fund and plan on adding to it monthly with the hope of buying this:

Or this:

Before too long! Maybe its time to start taking more piano students after all. I wish that I had laid out the big bucks for a really good dSLR before the princess made her Watson debut. Not a mistake to make twice. In the meantime, as I save I will be studying photo manuals and reading reviews and bugging people about what camera they use and why... Prepare yourself if you fall into the dSLR owner catagory! Bonaparte said, "A picture is worth a thousand words." Reagan said, "One picture is worth a thousand denials." Who am I to argue with such as these? If you are a fellow photo junkie you will enjoy browsing http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/ and http://www.coffeeteaphotography.blogspot.com/. If your not, you may enjoy them just because they are so darn creative. Til next time!

Random

2010-01-29T15:52:00.000-08:00

One really tangible reason to memorize Scripture is that quoting it to oneself over and over helps tremendously to drown out the pernicious squeal of the drill, or at least that was my experience.

Knee-pads look really stupid when worn under sweatpants, but one must choose the best of the evils...Either wear shorts and needlessly blind friend and foe while proudly sport non-stupid looking kneepads, or cover up said legs and walk around with noticably knobby knees.

Volleyball, softball, and any other sports involving balls were created to keep me humble. You may not have surmised that from above point.

Scrubbing the bathub is the most detestable of household chores, closely followed by putting away folded clothes and wiping baseboards. Generally speaking, cleaning house can be sort of cathartic, but those jobs make my spine tingle.

Having participated in the 6:30 AM club for 7 consecutive days, I'm pleased to announce I have enjoyed all but one morning thanks to the reviving and quickening properties of my favorite vitamin, coffee. Actually, I've considered bumping my wake-up call to 6:00 AM to buy myself a little extra alone time with my Bible, journal and cuppa.

One of the greatest moments of every day is the delivery of the mail. I hate a box full of junk, but there is always that chance that there'll be something good.

I admit to loving Facebook in part because I like authorized snooping. That's just one of the many reasons that I love it, but probably the most random.

Mmmm. Sarah has the cutest little seashell ears and an adorable belly button. I won't devulge the random things that I adore about other close members of my circle lest things get a triffle awkward. However, a certain almond eyed friend of mine does have such enviable red hair...you know who you are...

They don't make TV shows like they used to. Take Maverick, Perry Mason, or Columbo, Dick Van Dyke, or Rockford Files. Now there's some quality entertainment. We're working our way through Maverick currently and I LOVE it!

"Who is the tall dark stranger there?

Maverick is his name.

Riding the train to who knows where,

Luck is his companion,

Gambling is his game."

Since none of this holds any profit and S.G. is not so patiently calling "Mamma" from her crib, it is time to pull this blog to a close. G'Day, friends!

Joining the Club

2010-01-26T16:51:00.000-08:00

There's this book I love to hate. It talks of a club that I should join. It describes a need my soul knows too well. I see the book and know that under its cheery cover and within its upbeat writing I will read upon myself page after page of conviction. Its one of those books that seems to never get put away but rather stashed, only to jump out and flash its face before being stashed again. It's called Shopping for Time. Its cover claims that I can do it all and should. The club it offers for me to join is called The 5 AM Club. Has a neat little jingle to it, huh?

Against my old-nature's better judgement, I'm reading it again, and the same old convictions are popping front and center in my heart. Things like shopping for time in the obvious place - before the sun rises; making sitting and adoring the Lord the most important part of my day; honoring the Lord with an organized home; evaluating various areas of my life against God's will to see the real state of affairs; Scripture memory... etc.

There is much work to be done in this feeble heart! Often I wish for sanctification to hit my heart like caffiene hits my blood stream. Pity it doesn't work that way. Instead, it takes making right choices and praying for the right heart and lots of time in the Word. So, this week I'm getting up at 6:30 (close-ish to 5 AM in the grand scheme of things) and spending time in the Word and prayer. Sadly, what seems like such a great idea the night before always feels pretty distasteful at the cold dawn of the next morning. Very dark coffee helps tremendously with the distasteful part. I'm also re-memorizing Ephesians 1 (also much easier when heavily medicated with my vitamin of choice) with the plan of continuing through the book. To my shame, this is not the first time I've had this plan. Perhaps I can stick it out this time. "...to the praise of his glorious grace!"

Sunshine on a Cloudy Day

2010-01-20T16:22:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine recently commented that I *drink* my sunshine. Made me laugh... Today is sunny but I'm drinking a beautiful Cappuccino anyway. Double sunshine! Does anyone else get a thrill from a perfect coffee mug? Not too big, not to hefty, must be classy and have some personality, must fit a specific mood, must be stable, must fit well in the hand and not have a dribbly lip... My current capp is in JUST such a mug. I digress.

I all but promised a blog on my hopes and schemes for better-than-Martha organization but after stepping foot into my office/loft/dumping grounds, my pipedreams hit the graveyard. It isn't that I am a slob...far from it! I live a deceptively clutter free life, minus the trail of toddler toys that now seem to creep behind me from room to room (as if alive, sometimes), and I like it that way. There is always that ONE room, though. It hangs over my head and lurks in my mind. Today I went to battle with the monster room and, although I wouldn't want to post pictures to prove it, I'm content with better-than-average-Kari organization.

And now for the root of the problem...It’s January. I detest abhor loath dislike January. After Christmas and New Year's are over I am faced with at least four more months of drizzle and gray with only a few bright spots (Jon's birthday, the occasional sunny day, Valentine’s Day) to pull me through. Jon knows to anticipate the yearly onslaught of pleas for vacation to anywhere (!!!), organization binges, talk of remodeling our already remodeled home, talk of selling and building a new home, tears over how "nothing ever changes", etc., and valiantly tries to cheer me up. (Sometimes he is pretty creative. For instance, he greeted me with a bowl full of ice cream when I got home form SSCC Monday night. Not a bad path to instant happiness!)

Such has he been enduring for the last few weeks. Good man that he is, when I began talking about switching bedrooms with Sarah he spotted my suggestion for what it really was (an escape route) and has worked with me to make that happen. I just love that man. Waking up in a new bedroom and having the pleasure of redecorating two spaces will do me a word of good and may possibly buy Jon a few more weeks to plan where to take me for a weekend. I realize that Hawaii is probably not in our budget...but I'd settle for Ocean Shores!

Finishing up, I know that underneath my yearly restlessness is a deep contentment in who the Lord is, who He is to me, and all the blessings I've been given. Maybe what I really need to do is refocus my heart on the joy I have in Christ and ask for a renewed spirit of contentment. Now and always and especially in January, "the Lord is my light and my salvation!" (Ps. 27:1)

The religion of Christ is the religion of joy. Christ came to take away our sins, to roll off our curse, to unbind our chains, to open our prison house, to cancel our debt; in a word, to give us the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. Is not this joy? Where can we find a joy so real, so deep, so pure, so lasting? There is every element of joy – deep, ecstatic, satisfying, sanctifying joy – in the gospel of Christ. The believer in Jesus is essentially a happy man. The child of God is, from necessity, a joyful man. His sins are forgiven, his soul is justified, his person is adopted, his trials are blessings, his conflicts are victories, his death is immortality, his future is a heaven of inconceivable, unthought-of, untold, and endless blessedness. With such a God, such a Savior, and such a hope, is he not, ought he not, to be a joyful man?

Octavius Winslow

Christian contentment is that sweet, inward, quiet, gracious frame of spirit, which freely submits to and delights in God's wise and fatherly disposal in every condition.

Jeremiah Burroughs
The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment

The enjoyment of God is the only happiness with which our souls can be satisfied. To go to heaven, fully to enjoy God, is infinitely better than the most pleasant accommodations here. Fathers and mothers, husbands, wives, or children, or the company of earthly friends, are but shadows, but God is the substance. These are but scattered beams, but God is the sun. These are but streams. But God is the ocean.

Jonathan Edwards
The Christian Pilgrim, Works of Jonathan Edwards

I'll end on that soul-encouraging note. (And go light a pineapple-coconut candle)

Million Dollar Smile

2010-01-13T14:20:00.000-08:00

Having been awakened by my child crying “...binkie, Mommy, binkie…” through the monitor at 3:00 AM and finding myself laying wide-eyed in bed with no hope of sleep returning, I began composing a “Happy New Year” blog post in my head. Had all gone as planned, you would have been subjected to Anne-ish sentiments about a year with “no mistakes in it yet” and all my plans for extreme organization that would have bordered on myth and fable. Never fear. Today’s events have completely cast all thoughts of sunshine and lollipops from my mind and instead I am going to tell you why I’m sitting at Starbucks drinking an Americano I can barely taste while my stomach clenches in knots. Don’t worry, by the end of the blog/rant I will be able to say, “Cast all your cares upon Him,” and “Rejoice in the Lord always.”

So, because I know you would fear to ask what could take the joy out of even my coffee, I will fill you in on the day’s events. It started benignly enough with a trip to Starbucks with my mom and dolly and a successful jaunt through Oh Baby, where I scored a darling Valentine’s sweater for the little one. I tried to tell myself, as I left my charge back at the Ponderosa happily playing in Grammies arms, that with as diligently as I scub my teeth the dentist would surely tell me “Well done, Faithful Brusher! You’re teeth are good as gold.” I should have known that a dentist’s job is to make my teeth worth more than gold, all the while torturing me and smiling. It’s the smile that kills me. When you deliver news that will mean a substantial dent in your patient’s bank account, at least have the decency to look sorry and apologetic.

I should have known, by the inarticulate grunts of the hygienist that all was not as it should be in my very expensive mouth, but still my forced Pollyanna attitude wouldn’t let me think the worst. I concluded that she was merely expressing her surprise at finding a spattering of baby teeth mixed in with too-small adult teeth – predictable stuff that every new person who looks in my mouth comments on…

Then comes in Mr. I’m-So-Smiley-&-Charming to drop the bomb on me. He showed me on the high-tech computer screen how this tooth and that tooth and, oh, this tooth….filling me in on all the nitty-gritty technical stuff before dropping the words “CROWN” and “CROWN” and "Filling". At which I gasped and stopped glancing over at his cheerful face and found myself staring dismally at the little grey spots on the X-rays that were going to cost me as much as three new laptops. He dared to mention the threat of a root canal if I should delay. And smiled, with apologies.

As I attempted to leave with a semblance of grace, I was handed a box of cookies that I apparently “won”, all neatly tied up with a bow (The IRONY! The Cheek!) and a proposed bill for nearly $3,000.00 dollars. Including today’s cleaning and checkup, I’m well over the $3,000.00 mark. They had the grace to not charge me for the X-rays.

So, now as I sip my flavorless espresso and pick at my very costly chocolate chip cookie, I’m pondering how to best let the news to my husband. Little did he know when he married me that this mouth he finds so alluring would cost him through the teeth! Before you buy a horse you always look in their mouth…maybe prospective husbands should also take up the practice.

Leaving off, God is good. His mercies are new every morning. He will provide for all our needs. I’m thankful to live in this country at this time in history, and I will smile more than ever so that everyone can appreciate that I have all my teeth. If you have managed to read this from top to bottem, I'm sure you're wishing that I could have found it in me to pull out a lollipop or two (can't. they make cavities.). Perhaps in my next scribble you will read of my mythical dreams for excessive organization... I know you just can't wait!

Sit.

2009-12-17T14:21:00.000-08:00

I'm all out of 'creative'. What I'm trying to say is ... See, I can't even seem to write a creative sentence. There comes a time when you have to face the empty coffee cup and realize that there are no new juices flowing. If you'd like to feel as I do, ~~waste~~ spend and hour browsing the links from http://howaboutorange.blogspot.com/. Maybe it will take you longer than it did me, but I assure you, at the end of your snoop you will feel as if you haven't a creative thought or whim. You will find that every gift you are giving to family and friends is dumb and thoughtless, that you could have made a miriad of amazingly heartfelt and cool gifts if you only had a spark of 'creative'. Since this is not what I had planned on blogging about I will move along...

(For those who care, I'm shamelessly plagerizing the rest of this post from http://www.girltalk.com/ and if you'd like, you can hop over to their much more creative blog for the real thing without offending me...how would I even know? In fact I recommend their whole current series,http://www.girltalkhome.com/blog/category/current_series/)

Have you ever considered what sitting still says to God? I suggest, as do other who have gone before, that sitting says "I need You!" to our Father. I suppose that there is a kind of sitting that does not honor the Lord, that simply creates a bigger seat while doing nothing for the heart, but it is the sitting at the Lord's feet that I'm talking about. Sitting, loving, communing, choosing the best thing, more of Him.

Isn't it funny how hard it can be to remember to bring the smallest daily activity to Him, but how quickly we run to dump the big stuff at His feet? Carolyn Mahaney says, "He [Jesus] didn’t tell her [Martha] to sit and listen only in time of great trial or difficulty. He spoke these words to her in the midst of the general busyness of her home." I dont't know about you, but my list of general busyness is overwhelming pre-Christmas and the busier I am the easier it is to drop that sitting time.

Let me leave it to one ever so much more eloquent (and quite a bit deader: 1794 - 1869) than I. Take it away, Charles Bridges~

"Take one step at a time, every step under Divine warrant and direction. Ever plan for yourself in simple dependence on God. It is nothing less than self-idolatry to conceive that we can carry on even the ordinary matters of the day without his counsel. He loves to be consulted...Consider no circumstances too clear to need his direction. In all thy ways, small as well as great; in all thy concerns, personal or relative, temporal or eternal, let Him be supreme. Who of us has not found the unspeakable 'peace' of bringing to God matters too minute or individual to be entrusted to the most confidential ear?"

Now why didn't I just let him articulate it in the first place? I guess I was just trying to be creative, proving my earlier point. My plan is to practice sitting and worshiping this Christmas season, to be so much more wrapped up in my Savior and His birth than in the quality of my wrap job on the scanty presents under the tree, to eat more of the Bread of Life than the cookie dough I'm finally getting around to mixing up.

As Sarah has taken

to telling her babies

often and with authority,

"Sssssssit!"

Goldbricking Friday

2009-12-11T14:21:00.000-08:00

Friends, let it be known that it is Friday and I am wasting time without any second thoughts. I slept in this morning, and upon waking up, decided that if Sarah and Mommy spent the whole day in pj's that would just be OKAY! Listing my accomplishments would be futile as there have been none, unless you count drinking a giant espresso, then brewing a pot of tea, and lets see...oh, wiping endless drizzle off my baby's face. Some days are just meant to be mundane. I refuse to think productive thoughts or to worry about all the things I could/should be doing. One of these hours I will take a shower and get dressed, but until then I will slub around in my baggy sweats and proudly sport my greasy updo, if you want to call it that. In all my shameless laziness, I've played hours of "babies" with the princess and played lifeguard with the bubble wand while she took a much needed bath. I've discovered blog after blog after website that are so cool and creative it makes me sick and then put that thought away because being cool and creative doesn't fit with my agenda of slacking the day away. I've laboriously created the above Watson three logo at http://www.widdlytinks.com/. Oh, and I've enjoyed a nice surprise visit from a friend who first understands my mode for the day and second doesn't mind eating biscotti and drinking tea with a slob. A good friend, indead! I would take the time to do a spell check... but no, I'm going to revel in the days imperfections. Read and understand or read and judge. What can I say?

Should you desire a little Christmas culture for your weekend, come to SSCC Christmas Concert tonight. You will see me at the piano looking very professional and classy and you will wonder how such a transformation could take place. Oh, and you will be blessed! It is a beautiful concert.

South Sound Classical Choir

invites you to join us as we

Awake the Sleeping World With Song

Singing holiday favorites old and new and featuring

works by Schubert, Bach, Handel, Haydn,

Britten, Leontovich/Wilhousky, Lord and more.

Concert dates, times

and venues are as follows:

Friday, December 11, 2009

Puyallup United Methodist Church

1919 W. Pioneer Avenue, Puyallup Valley

8:00 PM

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Pilgrim Lutheran Church

10510 – 136th St. E., South Hill Puyallup

7:00 PM

All concerts are free, although donations are gratefully accepted.

Questions? Call Director Peter Herpst at 253 627 0814, or

Visit our web site at http://sscc.valleyartssociety.org.

Sweet Dreams

2009-12-09T22:17:00.000-08:00

This recipe looks like a must-try for this Christmas season!http://joyofbaking.com/shortbreads/ChocolateMintShortbreads.html

(stop drooling and go make them!)

Amazingly Enough

2009-12-08T14:56:00.000-08:00

Amazingly enough, I find myself alone at Forza with my computer and an hour to spare before accompanying the final tweaking rehearsal of South Sound Classical Choir… Maybe I’m dreaming. Free time doesn’t happen in real life. Let’s see what random thoughts are floating around in the hemisphere…

It’s fully the Christmas season now. I know this because at this time of year my husband has to make appointments with me should he want to have more than five minutes of my attention at a time. The good news is its temporary and the other 11(11 ½, really) months of the year I am a very attentive wife who makes it a practice to be home in the evenings. Lest you pity the man, let me make it clear that he knew he was marrying a musician, although all the implications of that may have escaped his love-besotted brain. Starting last weekend and lasting through this next weekend he will have put our child to bed more than me. Along with leaving him alone to be Mommy and Daddy, he is faced with the reality that I head out dressed to the nines for an experience that is utterly exhilarating and non-depended upon his participation. He’s a good sport and listens to my raves or rants post-concert with appropriate smiles or frowns and usually even makes an attempt to come to at least one event. For the record, last Saturday’s performance was, I think, as near faultless on my part as I’ve ever played, and that included Schubert’s Magnificat! Hurray!

On the home front, glitter reigns. What else can I say? This year’s decoration is all about reflecting light, sparkling snowflakes, twinkling lights, and shameless elegance. If you have not been to Three French Hens in Maple Valley, GO! You will be inspired (and walk away empty handed, as you will most likely not be able to afford, or at least justify, a single purchase). My home twinkles in dim reflection of that shop. My tree stands at least 15 feet tall and takes up more floor space than my couch, but it’s only for a month so I can sacrifice that valuable real estate. This year my princess is old enough to do damage should she be so inclined. I’m pleased to say, she seems to think the tree is “ouch” and so she marvels from a distance. Such fun to see her eyes glow! The decorating highlight of my week was the discovery of a nativity packed deep in the Christmas fathoms that perfectly suited my little girl’s room. She helped me unpack it and set it up, making appropriate spitting noises for the camels and signing ‘Baby Jesus’ in her adorable way. I think this nativity will be a fun tradition for us to incorporate into our Christmas celebrations with Sarah Grace.

I love traditions…memories built upon year after year. Noel Piper says,

“Memory is the mother of traditions. Almost all of our special days are celebrated because they remind us of something significant in the past… Our celebrations are occasions to look back and remember what God has done in the world and in our lives.”(Treasuring God in our Traditions)

I also like what Kent and Barbara Hughes have to say,

“We need to use common sense in regard to memory and tradition. Neither will happen unless there is a disciplined resolve to do something about it. Our human, sinful tendency is to forget God’s benefits. And if we make no disciplined effort, we will not fully celebrate God’s goodness.”(Disciplines of a Godly Family)

Maybe it’s the twinkle lights speaking, but it sounds like fun work to set my heart and hand to. With that I make it my goal to put my creative little brain to the task of making Christ the central celebration in our home in a way that we can repeat and build upon year after year. If you have traditions that you really enjoy doing with your kids/family that you feel lifts up Christ at Christmas time, leave me a comment to tell me about it! I think I finally have the comment glitch figured out.

My how a free hour can fly! I (and the last few sips of my peppermint mocha!) really must run, seeing as I’m going to be five minutes late to rehearsal. How typical of me. Ta-ta, friends!

Aftermath

2009-11-24T15:46:00.000-08:00

It started with a twelve hour red-eye drive to Nor-Cal. That's right, 7:30 PM to 7:30 AM. Two stops. Yup. Of course you wonder if S.G. slept... yes. She slept at points. After a nice two hour nap she woke up and thought it must be time to start the day. It took some convincing, but she did go back to sleep two hours later and we continued the sleep roller coaster through Oregon and into California.

It continued with visits, naps, coffee with forever-friends, frozen yogurt at Tango, pre-wedding stress, etc. Friday night: Bachelorette Party. Everyone got the memo and wore little black dresses, very tall shoes, and lots of mascara. The ride to Crush 29 was as stylin' as it gets in a shiney, black stretch limo (the ride home was slightly less extravagent in a vintage aerostar van.). We arrived to a table strewn with roses and kisses, had an extrordinary dinner, champagne, and a very good time. Evening completed with Bridal Wars and chocolate cake. Good stuff, that.

Saturday. Rehearsal, rehearsal dinner.

Sunday dawned, as wedding days do, with that sense of timelessness. Try as you might to take it all in, its as if your mind is numb and you watch from a distance. The bride was unusually calm and pranced around with anticipation oozing from her. I loved the MOH's comment, "OMG, we all just look so GOOD!" And we did, all six of us bridesmaids. But nothing compared to the bride. Amazingly, the whole event seemed to come off without a hitch, with the exception of blood on the wedding dress which was quickly fixed by the MOB who excells at that sort of thing. To the astonishment of all, all three flowergirls made it down the aisle, and in fact, S.G. led the way with laughter as soon as she saw Grammie beckoning her from the front row! The best moment was watching the groom cry upon the appearance of his beloved. That was my undoing. As much as I hate crying in front of people, there was no stopping the tears as I watched my best friend of 20 years become Mrs. Straks.

The reception was phenominal, as any event thrown by the bride's family would be. Everything was stunningly beautiful, texural, tasty, and thought out. A party to end all parties. And then it was over. The B and G left to the sound of a million (okay, 250) ringing bells and are, I'm sure, happy as any couple has ever been to have this day firmly planted in their memory.

So at 9:40 PM a very tired husband and father loaded up his family, a near-melting 18 month old flowergirl, and an emotional bridesmaid, and began the 12 hour drive home. In contrast to the drive down, S.G. slept through the night. Another uneventful drive that will take several days to recover from.

All is well. Let the aftermath begin.

Patience, Future Grace, and John Piper

2009-11-16T14:32:00.000-08:00

It’s a lovely WA, late-Autumn day…I say its lovely not because the sun is shining, but because inside my home it is cozy and I have yummy smelling candles lit, and my cuddle-bunny is sleeping, and my coffee is hot and rich. I’m overlooking a pile of laundry and the dirt-bunnies skipping around under my table so that I can have this moment of relaxation. There will be time for that when my coffee’s gone.

This morning’s quiet time was a little bleary-eyed after a busy weekend, but I did glean a couple John Piper comments that seemed to hit my heart a little hard – probably because this is an area of conviction for me. I thought I’d share them as a sequel to my post, “Inconvenience Store”.

This is from John Piper's book, Battling Unbelief.

“Impatience is a form of unbelief. It’s what we begin to feel when we start to doubt the wisdom of God’s timing or the goodness of God’s guidance. It springs up in our hearts when our plan is interrupted or shattered….

…The opposite of impatience is…a deepening, ripening, peaceful willingness to wait for God in the unplanned place of obedience, and to walk with God at the unplanned place of obedience – to wait in his place, and go at his pace. And the key is faith in future grace.”

This definition strikes me. It seems like I spend my life learning to wait on the Lord’s place and time and never get past Kindergarten. The most notable and difficult wait of my life was the wait for God’s answer to my heart’s prayer for a child. I praise him for his perfect timing and his perfect answer and then fight him in my heart as I learn to wait in a new day. John Piper says, “Patience is the capacity to ‘wait and to endure’ without murmuring and disillusionment.” I’ve got a long way to go, baby!

He goes on, “ If we believed that our hold-up at the long red light was God’s keeping us back from an accident about to happen, we would be patient and happy to wait…

…The key to patience is faith in the future grace of God’s ‘glorious might’ to transform all our interruptions into rewards.” And the hard part is potentially not seeing any reward to the wait in this present age. I love to praise him for the wait he gave Jon and me when I look at Sarah Grace and see the perfect answer to our 7 years of prayer. But obviously, not all answers are as tangible, huggable, and present…sometimes the wait doesn’t end. I love this: “The strength of patience hangs on our capacity to believe that God is up to something good for us in all our delays and detours.” I’m so thankful that my God is compassionate and merciful, that his sovereign plan will not be thwarted (especially by me),

that in his sovereignty he is gracious.

This is not meant to be preachy. This is meant for me and for my heart that is ever wandering from these truths. As Jon and I fill out another application for adoption, start an update to our home-study, and deal with masses of paperwork, I pray that we will both rest in the strength that faith in future grace supplies. I love this quote from William Cowper,

“Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace,
Behind a frowning providence,
He hides a smiling face.”

And this from Isaiah 64:4,

"From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear,

no eye has seen a God besides you,

who acts for those who wait for him.”

With that, my coffee is getting cold, and my laundry pile has not shrunk on iota, so I will go attend my home that desperately needs attending. Stay tuned for the much less preachy shoe blog…

Coffee Conniption

2009-11-07T13:20:00.000-08:00

This will surprise you. Yesterday morning found me in the drive-up line at my convenient Bonney Lake Starbucks. Go ahead, smirk and nod your knowing little head. My excuse for yesterday's stop was wrapped up in having pulled out my hoard of Christmas music just that morning, a list of necessary errands yet to tackle, and the distinctive call of the new red cup. Frankly, I didn’t try very hard to resist. “Welcome to Starbucks! What can I get started for you?” The words alone make me happy.

I wasn’t prepared for the drama that was about to unfold before me. After I ordered my first peppermint mocha of the year, I waited. And waited. And…WHAT could be taking so long? The SUV with tinted windows and the Obama sticker had been stalled out at the window for EVER! Then I realized I could see the driver of the car reflecting in her side mirrors and she was not a happy lady. I watched as the barista attempted to hand first one rejected iced caramel macchiato then another to the Warped, Frustrated, too-tanned, too-jeweled driver. Of course, because I am my father’s daughter, I rolled down my window in spite of the rain so that I could get a better take on the situation.

I could go on, but in short, it took three baristas, and the store manager, and four attempts at the perfect iced macchiato before our coffee prima dona decided she’d ruined enough people’s mornings and drove off. As I drove up to the window with a very amused expression on my face, the barista hung his head and said something about it being a fun morning. I just laughed. Driving away with my nearly (I say ‘nearly’ because I didn’t spill it) perfect peppermint mocha I wondered what lesson I could take out of my little private theater and this is what I arrived upon:

1.) Let those who have called me a coffee snob take note.

2.) Be wary of iced caramel macchiato s as they are apparently very hard to make correctly.

3.) It should be made known that once The Red Cup has been introduced one should refrain from ordering iced drinks as it might negatively affect your attitude.

Deep stuff, I know.

Inconvenience Store

2009-11-05T14:47:00.000-08:00

This is what Mr. Webster has to say about Convenience:
Pronunciation: \kən-ˈvēn-yən(t)s\
Function: noun

Date: 14th century

1 : fitness or suitability for performing an action or fulfilling a requirement

2 : something (as an appliance, device, or service) conducive to comfort or ease

3 : a suitable or convenient time

4 : freedom from discomfort : ease

On my drive home from Bible-study this morning, I lost count of how many convenience stores I passed after six. Funny thing to count, I agree. My little princess was sleeping blissfully in the back seat, having been fed and changed at Starbucks, and as I drove my thoughts were on how convenient it was that all was going according to my plan. I would get home, wrap her up in the blankets that I’d laid out before leaving this morning, and then I would have several hours to myself as she slept off her exhaustion, having played herself out in the nursery this morning. As I drove I was aware of my feelings of peace. I felt good about my mommy-role, and I felt good about the java in my red Starbucks cup. Funny thing, though. I knew that if my plan were disrupted, if my princess woke up when I went to transfer her from car to crib, if my coffee spilt, if I ran out of gas, or if any number of if’s happened, my sense of peace would vanish and I would become frustrated and irritable. Thus, my count of convenience stores began as I became aware of my obsession with all things convenient.

Here’s the facts, Ma’am: Being a mommy is not convenient. Being a wife is not convenient. Why? Because in order to fulfill those roles in a God-honoring way I must give up myself and my desires. Living in a culture of ease and comfort, it is so easy for me to fall into a self-focused mentality where the highest aim of my life is to eliminate discomfort. How contrary that is to God’s Word! My Father who graciously gives me all things, has promised me not a convenience store, but suffering, trial and persecution. A store of inconvenience. It is part of His good plan for my life to not make it a bed of roses and ease. My flesh finds this very inconvenient. My spirit knows that no good parent would deny difficulty to their child. In His infinite love for me He promises to rain on my garden that I might grow. He promises me a store of inconvenience.

This is the part I trip over (tell me I’m not alone!) - “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.” (James 1:2-3) I tend to think of trials as big things like a job loss or persecution by unbelievers, but I’m pretty sure that this Scripture is also referring to when my princess wakes up an hour and a half early from her nap, or won’t stop fussing while I’m trying to fix dinner, or when I spill my coffee (undoubtedly a perfect cup) all over my lap in the car while I’m on the way to someplace that I’d like to look nice. These little inconveniences can throw off my joy-groove quicker than anything I know. And how sad that must be to my Father who is giving me good things. It is my prayer that I would not just accept what he gives me, but that I would rejoice in it steadfastly, convenient or not. That I would take the opportunity to grow when He waters me. I want my joy to be rooted in deeper stuff than whether things are comfortable and easy for me at the moment. I’m very convinced, however, that its not possible apart from God’s grace, which is why I hang my heart on this Scripture: “My grace is sufficient for you, My power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Thank you, Lord!

At the Break

2009-11-03T15:58:00.000-08:00

First blog.
Let's set the scene.
After 10,000 "wha-sat?"s, 26 exclamations of "Ouch!", and uncountable attempts to tell Mommy "NO" all within the first four hours of the day, I am presented with the beautiful sound of alone. I am at the forfront of the break otherwise known as naptime for my 18 month old whirlwind. The beauty of alone shines only once a day, usually around 12:15, and then for at least two hours, I hear my thoughts reuminating around and find that I can listen. Often times my thoughts are centered on organizing the 31 tasks that need to be accomplished before alone is over, and yet today I find that I need to stop and enjoy the sound of my thoughts.

Lest the above paragraph sound like the rant of a disgruntaled and discontent house-wife, let me say that my happiest hours are spent in the company of my husband and princess. All the noise and sloppy kisses and messes are the answer to years of pointed prayer for a family. I will always take a day with my teething baby over a day with no children. I only mean to express the relief and refreshment that comes from solitude...the chance to enjoy from a distance.

So today, sitting with a pot of tea, a chocolate chip cookie, and the beautiful Fall sunlight attempting to refresh my fading freckles, I write my first blog at the break. The scene is set.

What's that I hear? Alone is over. I am being summoned back to Mommy-land by the sound of a certain new talker calling me to rescue her. What a beautiful sound...